


skylight

by djhedy



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AFTG Fall Exchange 2020, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Fluff, Halloween, M/M, autumn aesthetic yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26542630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djhedy/pseuds/djhedy
Summary: Neil didn’t hate his new apartment. It was hard to hate something he hadn’t chosen. After Matt finally left, a hug and a promise to visit again soon, Neil closed the door, and tucked his hands in his pockets and turned in a small circle in the living room.It was big.He took his hands out and shook them, holding them up either side of him.Really big.-neil moves to a pro team, a new apartment, in a new city, and is held up by his friends. and by a series of mysterious gifts left on his doormat.
Relationships: Kevin Day/Jeremy Knox, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 44
Kudos: 549
Collections: AFTG Exchange Fall 2020





	skylight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nekojita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekojita/gifts).



> for YOU. and NO ONE ELSE. thank you for the prompt it was sweet and delicious.
> 
> the prompt was:
> 
> Neil, who doesn't like sweets and doesn't celebrate Halloween, is surprised when someone leaves him a series of gifts leading up to the holiday - surprised both by the fact that he's being given gifts and that the giver knows him so well.
> 
> xxx

Neil didn’t hate his new apartment. It was hard to hate something he hadn’t chosen. After Matt finally left, a hug and a promise to visit again soon, Neil closed the door, and tucked his hands in his pockets and turned in a small circle in the living room.

It was big.

He took his hands out and shook them, holding them up either side of him.

Really big.

A whole length of a living room, with a kitchen end and a sofa end.

The sofa came with the apartment, but he had no other furniture. It looked aimless. Nothing like the shabby dorms of his five years with Matt and Seth.

Along the entire length of the outside wall was a window. Top to bottom, left to right. Just glass. He could see out and, presumably, anyone who wanted to look could see straight in. Neil did kinda hate _that_. There were blinds, but they were broken. Matt had tried tugging on them earlier, scoffed when they didn’t work and said _Your first pro gig and it’s a shitfest, sorry._

Neil took a few tentative steps towards the window and looked out.

Seven floors up. He could see the exy stadium from here, at least. And the park. He guessed he didn’t hate that.

He walked back to the front door, shrugged into his running shoes, and left.

Neil didn’t hate his new life as a pro exy player. He was finally playing with Kevin Day. They’d been in touch during college, playing from different states, and Neil had observed from afar how Kevin had broken with the Ravens, moved to the Trojans, straight into Jeremy Knox’s care. And now they were the best strikers in the league. And now _Neil_ got to _sub_ for them. He grinned at practise every day during summer training, and tried to ignore the knowledge that, come fall, he’d be lucky to get ten minutes a match. He told himself: that _would_ be lucky. Kevin told him he should be grateful. Jeremy shoved him playfully and said he just had to be patient.

So he’d be patient.

Neil walked home one night, arms full of emergency groceries he’d bought after a late practise, phone balancing precariously between his shoulder and ear, and said, “Yes,” and struggled to move the groceries from one arm to the other, and dug his key out his pocket, and said, “No,” and fumbled with the key hole. “I don’t know. I don’t even _like_ candy, why are you asking me?”

There was a noise from behind him, and he turned to see a guy stood in the doorway opposite and a little way down from his, arms crossed and expression somewhere between curious and irritated. Neil pulled a face. “Sorry,” he said, not feeling very sorry at all – it wasn’t that late. “I’ll be quiet.”

The guy watched until Neil was inside. Neil waved a little, and closed the door.

“Who was that?” asked Matt.

“Neighbour,” said Neil.

“Right,” said Matt, “So that’s a no on getting candy before the date?”

“That’s a no on asking me which candy you should buy a girl I’ve never met before you even pick her up for the date,” Neil said, dropping his keys on his table and kicking off his shoes.

Matt sighed down the phone. “You were like a brother to me. What happened?”

“Graduation.”

“They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“You could try that out with Dan.”

“We haven’t even been on one date yet!”

Neil shrugged down the phone, and heard Matt groaning into a pillow.

Neil usually ate dinner in his bedroom, sitting cross-legged at the foot of his bed and watching exy matches on his laptop, or chatting with Matt, or watching Seth play video games while giving him bad advice.

Seth wanted to come visit, but he had no money.

“I’ll pay,” Neil said, with a shrug.

Seth narrowed his eyes on the laptop screen, but Neil couldn’t tell if it was _at_ him or at the fact that he’d just narrowly avoided getting snipered. “I don’t need charity, asshole.”

“Then don’t come,” Neil said. “We could invite Matt, too.”

“How about the last weekend of September?” said Seth, neatly sidestepping the issue of money. “I don’t have work.”

“I’ll book the tickets,” said Neil, hiding a smile behind his takeout. He slurped a noodle. “That guy’s gonna shoot – too late.”

Suddenly it was their first match. It was the end of August, and Neil was bouncing on the balls of his feet, watching what felt like the best match he’d ever seen, Kevin and Jeremy running up and down the court, barely moving their lips, anticipating each other’s moves like they’d been doing for years.

So Neil bounced, feeling the restless energy battering between the other twelve subs with every hit of the ball.

He was ready to _go_ , damnit.

Just put him on the court.

Kevin tried a new move that he and Neil and Jeremy had been throwing around with their captain – twisting around a backliner with his knee, leaving his foot behind, like a bluff – except his guy was huge, and Neil frowned a second before it happened – except he didn’t see what happened, he just knew Kevin was on the floor, and yelling, and Jeremy was dropping his racquet and sprinting over and Neil was pressed against the plexiglass in terror, skin warm and the glass cool and Kevin on the floor, _Kevin on the floor_.

Kevin Day had broken his ankle, on the first match of the season.

“It’ll only be a couple of months, max,” Jeremy said down the phone.

Neil frowned at the ceiling above his bed. “That’s almost the whole season.”

“That’s what he said,” Jeremy said with a sigh. “I think it’s a miracle it isn’t worse.”

“You’re a glass half full person,” said Neil, scratching his fingers on the covers.

“So, I wondered if you’d like to come round!” said Jeremy brightly, as if this were at all related.

Neil said, “Why?”

“I don’t know. I thought it might –”

_“Is that him?”_ came Kevin’s voice. Neil put the call on speaker and pulled up a mindless game.

“Yes,” said Jeremy.

_“Let me talk to him.”_

“I thought you were in _bed._ ”

_“I’ve been in bed for days.”_

“Love, you can’t even stand – _wait_ –”

Neil heard a scuffle, and then Kevin’s voice said, “Neil. Come over.”

“No,” said Neil, popping all his purple bubbles.

“Yes.”

“What is there to discuss?”

“How about your atrocious attitude when it comes to the most important season of your life?”

Neil popped some green bubbles, and imagined they were Kevin’s furious glare. “I don’t have an attitude, I’m just busy.”

“Busy? What’s more important than this?”

_“Kevin, you really should be in bed...”_

There was another scuffle, and the line disconnected. Neil won a few more rounds before Jeremy called back. He closed his game and held the phone to his face and just listened to Jeremy sigh. “Sorry, about him, he’s–”

“He’s just being Kevin,” said Neil, unbothered.

“Maybe it’s not such a good idea, you coming round,” said Jeremy. “He’s – he needs to _rest_.” He sounded stern, as if it had been Neil’s idea.

“Ok,” said Neil. He hopped off the edge of the bed, wondering if this conversation was over, if he had any cereal in the cupboard.

Jeremy said, “But we should hang out! Get to know each other a little better.”

“I know you fine.” When he reached the kitchen, back to the window, Neil took out a box of muesli and peered into the dust fragments at the bottom.

“Neil, there’s plenty more of each other to get to know! And I think that’s what distinguishes good teams from great teams, don’t you think?”

“Sure,” Neil said, balancing his phone on his shoulder and digging a hand into the plastic to pick out the biggest bits of cereal.

“Great!”

“Great what.”

“So we’ll go out tonight?”

“Oh, uh –”

“Are you free?”

Neil couldn’t think of a single thing he could be doing. He dropped the bag back in its box, sighed, and said, “Ok.”

“Brilliant,” Jeremy grinned down the phone.

Neil ate his cereal dinner in bed, and flexed his ankle a few times.

That evening, on his way out the front door, Neil tripped over his doormat and went colliding into the wall opposite.

He straightened himself, tensing out aching muscles, and stared at the wall. How embarrassing. At least no one had –

“Any damage?”

Neil looked over at the source of the voice. The same door from before had the same guy’s head sticking out of it. He looked blank, or maybe unimpressed.

Neil looked down at himself. “I’m fine,” said.

The guy stepped out, and gestured. “I meant the wall,” he said, giving Neil a look and then staring at the wall Neil had hit.

Neil frowned. “It’s fine.”

The guy looked at him again, shrugged, and closed the door behind him.

“You never come out,” Jeremy accused him as they nursed their drinks.

Neil moved his glass around and listened to the ice cubes clink at the bottom. “I do.”

“Must have missed that,” Jeremy said with a smile.

“Not often.”

“It’s important for team cohesion. We’re probably going to have a big Halloween party, we always do – I’m hoping I can convince Kevin to host one at ours.”

Neil gave Jeremy a look. “It’s September.”

“I know,” said Jeremy, nodding seriously, “it’s a bit late to plan, I realise, but Kevin’s been distracted with his injury and,” his face fell a little, “it’s honestly been a bit hard.”

Neil wanted to continue squeezing out of Jeremy why on earth it was necessary to discuss Halloween almost two months early, but instead he said, “Yeah?”

Jeremy sagged against his chair, and told Neil about Kevin’s mood swings – low one minute, sofa-bound and watching endless exy matches, and hyper and trying to do too much the second, constantly on the phone with management and some of the players and making notes in his dedicated playbook.

Neil said, “...Is that different?”

Jeremy hit him on the head with his coaster. “Take this seriously.”

“Sorry.”

“He’s sad.” Jeremy looked sad.

Neil felt something wriggling in his stomach. “I could come over some time,” he said.

Jeremy smiled at him.

When Neil reached his corridor, feeling pleasantly tipsy but still, he noticed neighbour’s door was open, and some mumbled words were filtering out.

He hesitated at his door, one instinct telling him to mind his own business, the other telling him to listen for trouble.

When he turned, looking one last time, the door had shut.

Practise without Kevin was weird. There were a few sneers from teammates, but Neil ignored those to talk to Jeremy and the captain and the more senior players about what to do about Kevin’s absence.

Neil and Jeremy took over Kevin’s tradition of night practises, leading them together, as Neil knew Kevin and Jeremy knew teamwork, and Neil was one step closer to being in a game: Anna took over Kevin’s spot as starter, and Neil took Anna’s spot as first sub. He ignored the glares he got from the others at that. If they were better than him, it would be them pressing their faces against the glass walls at games.

He loved it more than anything.

Which maybe explained why he had no food in his cupboards.

“I’m telling you, I went shopping,” Neil sighed into his phone.

Matt made a noise. “Sure. Then what are you having for dinner?”

Neil glared at his cupboards. “I’ve just been – busy.”

“Yeah, I know. It sounds like you’re almost never home.”

Neil shrugged into his coat. “Wanna come shopping with me?”

He could practically hear Matt grin down the phone. “Sure.”

Neil opened his front door, then paused to kneel and tie his shoe laces.

“What’s on the menu?”

“I dunno,” Neil said. “What do grownups eat?”

“Um. Different things. “Vegetables?”

“I hate vegetables. If I could live off fruit I would.” Neil stood to see his neighbour just coming home. Neighbour looked at him, then spent a second unlocking his door.

“You could get a pumpkin! It’s September! Make pumpkin soup.”

“Pumpkins freak me out.” Neil closed his door behind him, and, acting on a whim, hung up on Matt mid-objection. “Hey,” he said. Neighbour looked at him. “Sorry about – the wall. And the being loud. I’m Neil, by the way.”

His neighbour looked him up and down. “Ok,” he said.

Neil waited, then adjusted his backpack onto both shoulders. “What’s your name?”

Neighbour looked away. Put his key in the lock again, although Neil swore he’d already done that. After a few seconds more he said, “Andrew.”

“Cool. Now maybe when I say hi to your wall again with my face, we can talk about it or something.”

Andrew gave his door the barest of smiles. “Can’t wait,” he said in a low drawl, and Neil headed past him and made himself go grocery shopping. He called Matt back when he got to the store and, while he walked around pushing a trolley noncommittally with one hand, was treated to a ten minute lecture on friendship, grownup food, and pumpkins.

Neil left his house one morning to find a jar of jam on his doormat. Not _just_ a jar of jam: wrapped up in a box, like it had been sent, but with no address. It was labelled “grape jam” and included a recipe for peanut butter and jam oatmeal. Neil frowned at it, and then called Matt.

“Did you send me jam?”

“Hello hot stuff.”

“I’m serious.”

“Jam?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh. No. I don’t think so. Hey Dan, did I send Neil jam?”

_“Who’s Neil?”_

“I’m offended,” said Neil with a grin. “I guess I interrupted.”

“Yep,” said Matt cheerfully, hanging up abruptly.

Neil put his mystery jam on the counter, and went to practise.

After a sniff test, with both Matt and Seth on camera to watch in case Neil died, Neil tried the jam with peanut butter and oatmeal – and it was delicious.

Jeremy took Neil out at least once a week. Sometimes they went to the bar, sometimes they went out with the team for team-bonding Greek food, sometimes they went to Jeremy and Kevin’s and Neil sat in his armchair and patiently listened to Kevin’s anxiety for ten minutes before they’d get into a heated debate and Jeremy would grin at them and force them to channel their antagonism into some video game instead.

Neil didn’t love playing video games. He preferred watching other people play them. But he did love beating Kevin at _Exy ‘19_.

The next time he saw Andrew it was early, and Neil was going for a walk to get coffee. He’d been awake half the night worrying – no. Just not sleeping. And he had to be on his game today. He wanted coffee. Good coffee.

And Andrew was closing his door behind him.

“Hey,” said Neil. 

Andrew looked up. “Hey,” he said. “Running into you here – such a coincidence.”

Neil smirked. “You off out?”

“No,” said Andrew, locking his door and shrugging his black jacket onto his other arm, covering a long-sleeved black top. “I’m just loitering in the corridor, hoping to run into you.”

“Great,” said Neil, “I’m going to get coffee. What are you doing?”

They walked down the corridor together, and Andrew gave him an assessing look. “What are you doing?” he asked.

Neil frowned. “Getting coffee.”

“With the talking.”

“I’m just – I thought it would be nice.”

“Nice.”

Neil shrugged and put one hand on the stairwell door, but doubled back when he realised Andrew was stood at the elevator doors. “You know. Neighbourly.”

Andrew just looked at him.

“Do you always wear black?” Neil asked.

The elevator doors opened, and Andrew stepped in. “Is this always how you make friends?”

“I don’t have much frame of reference,” Neil said, leaning against the wall next to Andrew and watching them both in the mirror opposite. Slouched, they were the same height, Andrew’s stark white blonde hair at complete odds with his all black outfit.

Andrew didn’t say anything until they were out the building. He hesitated, watched as Neil tightened his coat around him, surprised at the chilled September air, and said, “Coffee?”

And Andrew shrugged. And they got coffee.

Neil said to Matt, “I dunno, he seems nice.”

“Wow, Neil’s making a friend.”

“Don’t talk about me in third person.”

“Ok, Neil. Wait, does that count?”

“No idea. Hey, did you buy me a scarf?”

“No?”

Neil felt the scarf between his fingers, a rich, dark red, patches of browns and oranges and – it had been bundled up on his doormat one day. “Someone gave me a scarf.”

“Huh. Weird.”

“I know.”

“Jam and now a scarf.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, do you have another fake birthday I don’t know about?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Secret admirer then?”

“Seems unlikely.”

“Seth maybe? Or one of your new teammates?”

Neil shrugged, and wrapped the scarf round his neck, warm and cosy and beautiful.

Neil, high off his first point scored on a pro exy court, drove to pick up Matt and Seth at the airport, drove them home to drop their bags, and planned to go straight to the bar to tipsy his way into celebration.

Seth looked around the apartment. Then at the window. He whistled. “You can see the whole fucking city from up here, man.”

“I know,” Neil agreed, “it’s awful.”

Matt looked up from where he was taking Seth’s bag off the sofa and dumping it on the air mattress on the floor, and putting his own bag on the sofa. “What do you mean it’s awful?”

Neil shrugged, and glanced at the window, and turned away. “Let’s go.”

“Give me a second,” started Matt, but Seth clapped him on the shoulder and grinned. “We’ve been in the air for days, get this man a drink.”

Matt allowed himself to be pushed out the apartment, and Neil was just locking the door behind his much taller, much rowdier friends, when he turned and saw Andrew. “Andrew,” he said, tucking his scarf self-consciously into his jacket. “Hey. We’re just going out.”

Andrew looked like he was just getting home from work, messenger bag slung haphazardly over his shoulder. Neil didn’t know what he did, but, normal people had jobs right? Andrew glanced at Matt and Seth then said to Neil, “I didn’t ask.”

“Hi!” said Matt. “We’re Neil’s friends. Just visiting.”

“ _Oldest_ friends,” said Seth, with something of a threat in his voice.

Neil gave Seth his most unimpressed look, then turned back to Andrew. “We’re just going to the bar down the road. Do you want to come?”

Everyone was quiet. Too quiet. Neil fidgeted. “What?”

Andrew looked down at the key in his hand, then his shoes, as if assessing his ability to say yes. He looked back at Neil. “Ok.”

“Great!” said Neil, ignoring the hole his friends’ gazes were making on his back. “Won’t this be fun.”

“Sure,” said Andrew, not taking his eyes off Seth.

It was fun, Neil thought. Andrew barely spoke, nursing his one whisky as Seth and Matt got drunk and Neil sipped at a beer he wasn’t really enjoying. Seth eventually took it off his hands and Matt replaced it with soda water, and Andrew watched the whole thing with careful eyes. When Matt and Seth wandered off to change the jukebox, Neil turned to Andrew and said, “Are you having fun?”

Andrew gave him a look. “I’m not here to have fun.”

“What are you here for then?”

“Had nothing better to do.”

Neil smirked. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

They sat in silence until Matt and Seth returned, Neil smiling down at his soda.

On October 1st a wreath appeared on Neil’s door. He paused to admire it, looking up and down the hallway. His door was the only one. It had pressed leaves and pinecones and Neil smiled at it, shaking his head, before leaving for practise.

“Maybe you have a secret admirer,” said Jeremy when Neil brought up the jam, the scarf, the wreath.

“When’s your birthday?” Kevin asked from his position on the sofa, leg propped up and looking at Neil shrewdly.

Neil glared at him. “You know when my birthday is, asshole.”

“I remember one of them is in January.”

Jeremy, from his position cross-legged on the floor and leaning against the sofa, said, “When you two flirt it makes me jealous.”

Kevin put a hand on his shoulder and leaned down to kiss the top of his head.

Neil smiled and looked away.

He’d never had what Jeremy and Kevin had. Had never really wanted it. Didn’t really understand what the fuss was about.

Except, sometimes when he was eating dinner at the foot of his bed, looking in his cupboard for food that didn’t exist, dragging himself to the store, cleaning the bathroom half-heartedly – anything he had to do to stay alive, that he used to do with Seth or Matt, he wondered what it would be like not to be so alone all the time.

There was a knock at his door. Neil jumped a little in bed, his icon in the phone game exploding before his eyes. _Damnit._ He shrugged on sweats, and slippers, and went to the front door, and opened it, expecting one of the only two friends he had in the city.

It was Andrew.

A fully dressed Andrew, holding two cups of coffee.

Neil looked down at his clothes, and up again.

Andrew raised an eyebrow.

“Hi,” said Neil.

“Hi,” repeated Andrew, sounding thoroughly unimpressed. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

“Seems so,” said Neil. “Is that for me?”

“It was,” Andrew said, glancing at the hole in Neil’s shirt, just over his shoulder. Neil adjusted his tshirt self-consciously. “I may be changing my mind.”

“Thanks,” said Neil quickly, taking it. “Is it –”

“Dash of milk,” Andrew said in what Neil suspected was supposed to be a mimic of his own tone.

Neil smirked. “I don’t sound like that.”

Andrew said nothing, but wasn’t moving away either, so Neil said, “Um, do you want to come in?”

Andrew walked past him, and Neil closed the door, feeling off-kilter. “Sorry, I don’t always look like this.”

“Busy Saturday?” Andrew asked, looking around.

“They don’t let us practise at weekends.”

Andrew gave him a look for that. “Practise?” He touched the counter, then looked towards the window.

Which meant Neil could face away from it. “I play exy.”

Andrew’s eyes snapped to him. “Oh, how disappointing.”

Neil grinned. “Breakfast?”

It was fun. Andrew sat at his counter, holding his coffee, and Neil made oatmeal, and asked if Andrew wanted to try his jam-and-peanut-butter thing. Andrew nodded, and Neil spooned it out, and they ate together at the counter.

“Big window,” Andrew commented.

“You don’t have the same?”

Andrew shook his head. “Series of small windows. Other side of the building.”

“Lucky you.”

“Not a fan?”

“I feel like I could be assassinated any second.” Neil injected a short laugh, to bring home the fact it was meant as a joke, but Andrew just raised his eyebrows at him.

“Paranoid?”

Neil looked down at his bowl, poked his spoon around a little, and said, “Life long opposition to dying before my time.”

When Neil looked up again Andrew cocked his head. “There’s more to life than not dying.”

Neil smiled. “Is there?”

Andrew made him change. When Neil came out wearing his favourite jeans with a hole in the knee and his day-oversized-grey-shirt rather than his sleep-oversized-holey-grey-shirt Andrew pushed past him into his bedroom and opened the wardrobe.

“I don’t think I know you well enough for you to be looking through my things,” Neil said, sitting on his bed and not minding at all.

“Sex toys?” Andrew said nonchalantly, moving hangers around.

“Just a lot of the same,” Neil said.

Andrew pushed around until he found a white tshirt that Neil had never worn.

“It’s too small,” Neil said.

“Then it probably fits you,” Andrew said.

Andrew left, and Neil exchanged shirts, and it hugged tight around his hips, and he pouted down at his body, then flattened the material over his stomach, and reluctantly went to find Andrew.

Andrew gave him a look, and a small, sarcastic thumbs up, and went to stand by the front door.

Neil tucked his scarf into the folds of his jacket, and followed Andrew out.

Andrew said, “You’ve been living here _how long_?”

Neil shrugged. “A few months. Half a year, maybe.”

Andrew looked incredibly unimpressed as he bought Neil a subway card, and patronisingly showed him how to run it through the barrier.

Neil said, “I’ve only ever hopped them before,” and scanned his card, and noticed Andrew’s lingering gaze.

Andrew took him straight to his favourite coffee shop, and Neil bought them two coffees – they had the same order – and then the bookstore – where Neil bought Kevin a book marketed at children called _EXY: Your faves, and tips on how to play_ and Andrew flipped through the book until he found Neil’s face, and Neil shut the book hastily and went to pay for it – and then Andrew dragged him to buy some clothes, and Neil bought a dark red leather bomber jacket for himself that Andrew had picked out, and Andrew bought some black wristbands and gave them to Neil as they exited the store – and Neil swapped out his ageing jacket for the new one jacket, and Andrew threw the old jacket in the trash, and Neil paused, and Andrew said a short eulogy, and Neil laughed, and it was _fun_.

Games were going ok, too. Neil played at least 10 minutes every match, and traded high fives with Leanne every time they swapped, and clacked racquets with Jeremy and Anna whenever one of them scored, and _buzzed_.

And sometimes there was a small present at his door: an amazon, print-on-demand book called _NEIL JOSTEN: THE MAN BEHIND THE LEGEND_ , on which someone had scrawled “0/10, sounds gay but isn’t,” and a candle that was pumpkin-scented with a note “the closest you can get to a pumpkin without having to suffer a pumpkin,” and a tupperware of apple pie which had been sour, and a little sweet, and delicious, and which he’d eaten over video chat while Seth and Matt played fictional chefs and made sure Neil hadn’t died.

It got closer to Halloween, and Jeremy wasn’t joking about the party. Kevin had agreed, and Neil had watched the moment it happened.

Sometimes he didn’t understand how Jeremy and Kevin worked. On the court, yeah, he got it, they’d been playing side by side for over five years, and had an almost telepathic link, the same sharp focus for the game, but balanced: Jeremy’s bright enthusiasm complimented Kevin’s harsh desperation. It worked.

Sometimes he didn’t understand how they put up with each other.

But sometimes he got it.

They had taken Kevin to the diner round the corner from their house, slowly, on crutches, Kevin grumbling the entire way and Jeremy refusing to help after he’d been snapped at, but walking close by his side just in case, and as they got to the entrance Kevin reached one hand out, and squeezed Jeremy’s arm, and kissed the side of his head, and Jeremy slung an arm around his waist and helped him inside.

So Neil kinda knew Kevin was going to say yes when Jeremy brought it up, half-way through a balanced meal of eggs and broccoli and potatoes and unsweetened iced tea.

Jeremy said, “We thought we’d have a party! For Halloween! It’s a week on Saturday? What do you think.”

Kevin looked at him, and smirked, and said, “Who’s _we?”_

Jeremy looked at Neil, and Neil sat up and said, “Oh I think that’s supposed to be me.”

Kevin gestured at Neil with his fork. “Neil hates parties.”

“And crowds,” Neil added, nodding.

“And people.”

“And loud music.”

“And _enjoying himself_.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Jeremy sighed. “You two are completely unhelpful. Why don’t you want me to be happy?”

And Kevin full-out smiled at him, and kissed him, and said, “Whatever.”

Jeremy grinned at Neil. “We won.”

“Yay,” said Neil.

“You can bring someone, if you want.”

Neil frowned. “What do you mean? Who would I bring?”

Kevin shrugged. “That neighbour you keep hanging out with?”

“The one you mention every time we see you.”

Kevin affected a high pitched voice and said, “Andrew is so _funny_ , and _smart_.”

Neil narrowed his eyes. “Not once have I said that.”

“You literally told us a joke he’d said,” Jeremy said with a grin.

Neil glared at his plate. “I do not _sound_ like that. I just think –”

“He’s nice,” Jeremy and Kevin said, simultaneously. “Yeah,” said Kevin, “We know.”

Neil knocked on Andrew’s door a week before Halloween, and when Andrew opened it he looked surprised, and not expecting company, standing in a navy blue sweatshirt that hung off his hips, and skinny pyjama pants, and Neil grinned. “Big night planned?”

Andrew crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you want?”

Neil shrugged. “Bored.”

“I’m flattered.”

“Want to go see a movie?”

Andrew stilled at that. He uncrossed his arms and put one hand on his doorframe. “That desperate for company?”

Neil shrugged again. Then grinned. “Come on. You don’t even have to get dressed. You look kinda cute.”

Andrew’s eyebrows raised and he looked down at himself then glared at Neil. “I do not. And it’s 9pm. I wasn’t expecting –”

“Such a grand offer?”

“To be –” Andrew gestured at him, annoyed. “Propositioned.”

“Ok tell you what,” Neil said, backing off a few steps. “How about I get changed, and we’ll watch a movie at yours?”

Andrew smirked. “Ok.”

Neil changed into pyjamas – red with a pattern of exy balls and racquets, and signed by a few members of his college team, MATT and SETH in huge letters across his shoulder blades – and grabbed a blanket, and opened his cupboard to no effect, and walked back across the hall to Andrew’s. The door was open, so he pushed inside to find Andrew microwaving popcorn.

“Salted, I assume,” Andrew said.

Neil grinned. “Ok.”

They sat on opposite ends of the sofa. Andrew asked what Neil’s favourite Halloween movies were, and when Neil said he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen any, Andrew found a stream of _Scary Movie_ , and after ten minutes in Neil asked if it was meant to be funny, and Andrew said yes, and they spent an hour making fun of it together, and Andrew making Neil laugh, and Neil wriggling a little closer to him, and poking Andrew’s sock with his sock, and eating popcorn together, and feeling warm and happy, and telling Andrew so, and Andrew saying that was a little gross, and Neil grinning.

The movie ended, and Neil fiddled with the ends of Andrew’s sleeves, and said to them, “Can I kiss you?”

Andrew’s hand stilled from where it had been fidgeting on Neil’s knee, and his other hand tilted Neil’s face up, and he stared at his lips, and nodded, and said, “Ok.”

Neil grinned into him as they kissed, and couldn’t stop, enjoying the taste of Andrew as much as he enjoyed his company, as much as he thought he would, and when he pulled away Andrew was blushing, and frowning at him, and shoving him away as Neil laughed.

When he was leaving he said, “Jeremy and Kevin are having a Halloween party next week. Do you wanna come?”

Andrew shrugged in his doorway, arms folded as Neil hugged his blanket to his chest. “With you?”

“Yeah,” said Neil. “With me.”

Andrew smiled. “Ok.”

“Ok.”

“Neil!” said Matt.

Seth had a look of concentration on his face, shooting tiny goblins that were attacking his castle, but Matt had put his game controller down.

Neil sat on top of his kitchen counter, eating oatmeal and feeling sad about spooning out the end of the jam. It was a bright day, and he found he didn’t really mind the light, and the sky, for once. He said, innocently, “What?” to the laptop screen.

Matt grinned. “This is a date, right?”

Neil rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t care. It’s just – Andrew. I just thought it’d be –”

“Nice,” said Matt and Seth.

The morning of Halloween, there was a knock on Neil’s door, and when he opened it a minute later, someone had left a gift-wrapped box on his floor. Neil smiled when he unwrapped it. It was a dvd of _A Nightmare Before Christmas_.

He padded over to Andrew’s door, not caring that all he was wearing was boxer shorts and his favourite white tshirt, and knocked. Andrew opened it. Neil said, “Is this how you make friends?” And Andrew smiled at him.

Maybe the Halloween party was fun, but Neil didn’t notice, tucked away in a corner with Andrew, the sounds of his teammates, and Jeremy telling stories, and Kevin’s laughter, and at some point a glass getting knocked over, and Andrew’s hands moving over Neil’s body, and Neil gripping his hair, and grinning into his mouth.


End file.
